POP MUSIC REVIEW : The Battle of the Bods at Universal

Tonight on MTV, it’s the Battle of the Network Chests, pitting Gerardo’s terrifying triceps against Freedom Williams’ tantalizing thorax! Ladies and gentlewomen, who will win this s- pec -tacular contest?

This series doesn’t exist quite yet, but the quadruple bill on Friday at the Universal Amphitheatre was a de facto pilot--much to the delight of the mostly teen-age and female audience--with four dance-pop acts of sometimes questionable musicality but undeniable physicality converging for a hardbody summit.

C+C Music Factory’s Zelma Davis was the only female contestant, which, as a complaint, is kind of like saying Raquel Welch was the only woman in “Fantastic Voyage.” The action was in the male division: Davis’ partner, Williams, was neck and neck and pec and pec against Gerardo, according to the screams and whoops of the young judges. Ostensible headliner Stevie B, also shirtless, did not reveal as rippling a chest, and tried to atone by wearing tights with no underwear, a possible violation under the rules of our series prospectus.

Question: Is there a heart underneath any of these spectacular chests? Or at the very least a heart beat worth dancing to?

In this equation, it was no contest. For those judging on content and not form, the irresistible, expert grooves of C+C Music Factory provided the sole redemption of an otherwise trying evening--even singing “live to track,” as advertised (that is, merely accompanying the recorded album tracks with additional live vocals).

It’s ironic that Davis, who came under controversy as the beauty who lip-synced to Martha Wash’s vocals on the hit “Gonna Make You Sweat,” easily proved to have the night’s best pipes, as well as lithe limbs. Williams, for his part, is a more than creditable rapper, whose lecture to the kids about the nature of rap and rock marked an attempt to address something other than narcissistic sexuality, the sole theme of the other three acts. Great riffs, solid showmanship, assured dancing.

Timmy T. opened with weak romantic balladry and some of the worst choreography this side of a junior high school mixer, its ridiculousness compounded when his two flygirls stroked the length of his body from either side.

Newly idolized bilingual rapper Gerardo followed with four babes rubbing him the right way, illustrating the lyric of his hit “Rico Suave” (“There’s not a woman that can handle a guy like me / That’s why I need two or three”) to excess, but never getting as “dirty and nasty” and “sexual and sensual” as repeatedly promised. As a rapper, he’s less than inconsequential; as a dancer, he may at least have a leg up on his likely rival, Vanilla Ice.

The only performer to bring a full band, Stevie B oozed professional insecurity, constantly peppering his romantic songs--with their preponderance of flat notes--with self-promoting queries, all addressed to one gender: “Are there any ladies in the house tonight? . . . How many ladies think they can love me for life out there? . . . How many ladies got the ‘Love & Emotion’ album tonight?” Ad infinitum. Was this a concert or 20 questions?